Death
by Dirty Pop
Summary: My take on Jacen's death in Yuuzhan Vong captivity. One of my more (okay, only) serious pieces. Read and enjoy!


The pain Jacen Solo felt now unequaled to anything any other human being in the whole collective history of the race had survived. He was merely a brain now, everything else a jumble of tender nerves, screaming at his mind.  
Kinetic bursts of light erupted like plasma ejecta from a coralskipper before the young man's eyes. Images of his twin sister Jaina, laughing with a dark haired, plae skinned man dressed in a crisp military uniform. His mother and father, cajoling each other in the Mellennium FLacon. In the back, there sat Anakin- or was it his dead little brother? On further reflection he decided it had to be someone who just looked remarkably like the brave, courageous younger Solo.  
The thing that hurt most was that none of them could feel him. None of them had the slightest inkling that he was still alive. But if Jacen was honest with himself, which was very hard to do under present circumstances, where his mindless reveries were the only thing keeping him alive, he couldn't really feel his loved ones through the Force either. He was given brief glimpses of their whereabouts, before sliding back into the amassing pain that was becoming jacen Solo, one time Jedi Knight, now long suffering Yuuzhan Vong captive.  
The living portal to the room flipped open with a sickening slurping sound. LIng from some sort of Yuuzhan Vong biologically tainted creature poured into the room, stinging Jacen's eyes, already close to sightless. Jacen drew on the Force, which was slowly abandoning him more and more each day with his captivity. He had no idea how many days that was exactly. All he could think about was the agony, the torment.   
"Jacen?" a whistling, almost whimsical voice inquired. Jacen laid limply on the dank floor, trying to muster the strength to call out Vergere's name. His vocal chords however had been ruined beyond Vergere's healing tears capability by a training warrior's amphistaff. Veregere proceed into the room, not waiting for any conformation from Jacen. She sat back on her reverse articulated legs like a chair, getting closer to the ground and closer to Jacen.  
She laid her feathery appendages on his upper torso. Jacen's heart was slowing. He would be dead within a matter of days, possibly hours, if Nom Anor's relentless torturing sessions continued with the same ferocity and frequency. She tried to secrete a few tears into his gaping, bleeding wounds but that hardly alleviated Jacen's harrowing pain.  
Jacen clung to their Force contact. It was the only offering the Force gave him.  
Don't worry, Jacen Solo, Veregere told him softly, as though cooing to a half asleep infant.  
I don't think I can hold on much longere, Jacen revealed, the effort of getting those thoughts across to Vergere's mind draining him of more strength than he actually had. I feel myself slipping away with every lengthy second.  
Vergere couldn't decipher his every exact word, but she got the drift of it well enough. Hold on. Luke Skywalker is near by. He will save you. Don't die yet, Jacen Solo.  
Jacen was bewildered. Why would his uncle be here of all places? Suspicious thoughts crept into his mind. He still wasn't sure he believed everything Vergere told him. She was with the Yuuzhan Vong after all. Perhaps this was some elaborate scheme to make Jacen's dissipating will ebb even more so.  
Vergere felt Jacen's doubt through their strained contact. He is on Coruscant right now.  
But Jacen was no longer paying attention. There was another guest in the room, a very unexpected guest Jacen had never anticipated.  
"Come on, Jacen," Anakin said. His mouth did not move, but Jacen distinctly heard those words. There was a heavly glow to Anakin and Jacen got the impression he was seeing Anakin's ghost, for Vergere paid no heed to their visitor. "It is time for us to leave."  
Leave? Leave to where?  
Anakin smiled enigmatically, bringing a teary smile to Jacen's face. He was faintly aware of Vergere staring at him worriedly, but kept his main focus on his brother. "We're going home," Anakin said, as though it explained something.  
Jacen somehow understood perfectly. He closed his eyes, once more playing those images of his family and friends through his mind. Jaina- so beautiful like their mother but so dark, unpredictable. HIs mother and father- their smiles merely grimaces of pain. They had lost so much and were only losing more as this war for control of the galaxy raged on. Aunt Mara- proud, almost too proud. Uncle Luke- the bravest man he had ever known. Was he really on Coruscant?  
It doesn't matter anymore, Jacen realized. If Luke was here, it was for his own mission, not Jacen's. Here Jacen was, about to finish his last.  
I'm ready, Jacen told his brother.  
Vergere was frantically calling Jacen's name out loud, trying to keep him alive. Jacen felt a rushing wind in his ears, felt like he was being pulled immeasurably fast backwards by a point behind his navel. The light was unblinkingly bright and never ending. Anakin remained at his side, helping him along the ride.  
At the end of the tunnel of light, Jacen saw fallen comrades- Wurth Skidder, Chewbacca, Rayf- all the friends he had lost. He even saw some new faces among the familiar but knew their names immediately- Yoda, Ben Kenobi, his grandfather Anakin Skywalker. They beckoned him forward to join them.  
Jacen did not resist. He would join them and his life would blow out of existence.  
Jacen Solo died, and this time Jaina and his mother felt it. 


End file.
